


Flashbacks

by angelofgrief



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 14:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelofgrief/pseuds/angelofgrief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the verge of death, one sees neither flashbacks of the past, present, and could-be future. Instead, it is all felt and become overbearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flashbacks

When Ianto laid there, in the arms of Jack, he thought he would see flashbacks.

Everyone has heard of them— when the time of death comes, images of the past will zip by the eyes. The images will not stay for more than a second but it is seeing them for hours and hours. Stories of regrets and happiness circulate through the mind. But that isn't true.

Ianto sees something completely different: he sees tears of the immortal man. He feels something different as well— the flashbacks that were suppose to be there are transformed into pure, raw emotion in his heart. He feels the regrets and happiness but doesn't neccessarily sees them. His brain also sees something else as well— his brain processes thoughts of _not dying_ and _Jack Harkness_.

In short, his eyes see the present, his heart feels the past, and his brain imagines the future. The tears that slip past his eyes are a combination and an attack of all three. The past that yearns for changes, fix mistakes. The present that comprehends the now, thinks of neither past nor future. The future that whispers stories of what could've been, what should've been. In the end, it's all painful.

"Don't forget me," he pleads.

To forget, to lose memories of himself, is painful enough as it is. It tears at past memories: Ianto's initial reaction to Jack, his first mission, his first night with him, everything. His present bleeds with the undeniable fact that right now, Jack is watching him die and he'll awake from his sleep but not him, not Ianto Jones. And his future— oh his future— is disintergrating, disappearing from what could be to what never will be. There is only one future and that is death itself.

He vaguely hears his response (something about how Jack will never forget him). His mouth automatically responds; his humanity responds, telling him that in a thousand years' time, he will. Ianto doesn't mean it because knowing Jack, he won't forget, of course he won't. He worries that he'll forget him, his soul, his ambition, his feelings for him. It is easy to forget a face but it's even harder to remember one if no emotion can connect to it. Ianto wonders if Jack will ever know the true him. He's willing to give that to him if he's willing to accept it.

_No flashbacks,_ he notices, as his eyes slowly close. His hearing is also losing it's ability to hear; he makes a mistake of hearing Jack telling him to stay awake. Maybe his ability to touch is dying too; there's a pair of lips of him, just like before.

There's only darkness now. Darkness and someone in front of him. There's no face, no distinct outline, shape or form. But, Ianto finds that he doesn't mind it. It radiants the same warmth as his love for Jack.


End file.
